half a chance is all I get if I get a chance at all
Okay, here we go. A whole weekend--Shangless. I'm anxious and I don't know why exactly. She barely speaks to me when she spends the weekend in NY, and she's gone away before. But I've never made it a point to say no communication before. I usually talk to her every day. It's hard to say what she is to me: she is the one who is always there, my constant, my best friend, my safe place. Of course, she would say that I should be safe in myself. She's like that. A constant pain in the ass.
It's a bad time for it. I'm not sleeping properly and I'm barely eating. The rules are that I have to sleep and eat, but it's hard to sleep when you're not tired, and it's hard to eat when you're not hungry. I've heard that if you just lie down and close your eyes for some hours, you'll get the same rest as you would if you were asleep. Is that true?
There is one positive thing about this weekend. I'm going to work. Which means write. I've blocked out a chunk of time, and I'm just going to do it. I'm really excited about this project now. I never realized it before, but it's kindof fun to write, and then throw it out, and then write, and then throw it out...I always felt that I had to be perfect the first time around. And see what I did there? I won't delete it. I said "I" have to be perfect instead of "it".
I've never forgiven myself for not being perfect. But what the hell. I'm having fun. It's like when I was a prissy little girl, I would tiptoe up to mud puddles, worried that I would get dirty. But then I would wade right in, and I'd forget my shoes, and my pretty dress, and everything else because mud? Is just about the most fun thing in the world.
I'm tired of struggling to keep my dress clean. That's all.
It's a bad time for it. I'm not sleeping properly and I'm barely eating. The rules are that I have to sleep and eat, but it's hard to sleep when you're not tired, and it's hard to eat when you're not hungry. I've heard that if you just lie down and close your eyes for some hours, you'll get the same rest as you would if you were asleep. Is that true?
There is one positive thing about this weekend. I'm going to work. Which means write. I've blocked out a chunk of time, and I'm just going to do it. I'm really excited about this project now. I never realized it before, but it's kindof fun to write, and then throw it out, and then write, and then throw it out...I always felt that I had to be perfect the first time around. And see what I did there? I won't delete it. I said "I" have to be perfect instead of "it".
I've never forgiven myself for not being perfect. But what the hell. I'm having fun. It's like when I was a prissy little girl, I would tiptoe up to mud puddles, worried that I would get dirty. But then I would wade right in, and I'd forget my shoes, and my pretty dress, and everything else because mud? Is just about the most fun thing in the world.
I'm tired of struggling to keep my dress clean. That's all.